Secret
by WorriedShoes014
Summary: Hermione tries to surprise Ron, but he kills the mood with his questions. A Hr/R One-shot. Post-DH. Rated T for mentions of sex and language.


**Author's Note:** This is my first Harry Potter fanfic, so don't be too harsh on me. It isn't raunchy or anything, but I rated it M just to be safe. Not sure where this idea came from; it randomly sprung into my mind at 4:30 this morning. It's Post-DH, so beware spoilers. I picture this happening around fall, so maybe November. Hermione is 20, Ron is 19. They're engaged. That's all you really need to know. So, enjoy!  
**Disclaimer:** The characters, the spells, and the job described all belong to J.K. Rowling. I just borrowed them for entertainment purposes. I own nothing (unforunately).

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**Secrets  
**_A Hr/R One-shot_

Ron Weasley Disapparated to his and Hermione Granger's flat with a loud crack. His red hair was disheveled and his muscles were aching. Today's Auror training had been the hardest yet. He wouldn't have been surprised if someone had passed out in the last few minutes.

He looked towards the clock over the kitchen stove and read the time: 9:34. He was late tonight. A lot later than normal, although he wasn't surprised. He'd been out of it all day and had been Stunned at least seven times. The seventh time was at the hand of his best friend Harry Potter, who allowed him to lay there for a good five minutes before he bothered to use the counter-curse. But Ron wasn't the only one out of it; as punishment, they were told to stay for a few hours extra practice.

They were worked to the point of exhaustion each day of the week, using their time on the weekend to recuperate. He always reassured Hermione that he was fine, that his years of experience of fighting Dark wizards came in handy. She'd give him a knowing look then pretend to believe him. They both knew that despite his experiences and knowledge, training was difficult.

He threw his cloak on the couch where it rested sloppily. He knew that Hermione would nag him about it later, but he was too exhausted to care. He slipped off his shoes and dropped his bag by the front door, marching toward his and Hermione's bedroom. The door was slightly open with the light on, and he peered inside, looking around for his fiancée. She wasn't there. _Must be visiting Ginny_, he thought to himself as he stripped off his shirt.

He walked to the bathroom door, about to pull it open, when he noticed a beam of light shining from beneath it. Maybe Hermione _was_ home. "'Mione." he said, knocking lightly on the door. "Is that you?"

"Yes. I'll be out in a second, Ron." Hermione called from behind the door as she stared at her reflection. Her usually bushy brown hair fell down her back in smooth, gentle waves. She thanked Merlin for the invention of Sleekeazy's Hair Potion. It could really come in handy, although it took loads of it to tame her hair.

She'd put on a bit of mascara but didn't bother with blush due to the embarrassed flush that had resided on her cheeks all day. Her thin but curvy body was clad in next to nothing – just a lacy, black bra that gave her a considerable amount of cleavage and lacy, see-through boy shorts. She gulped.

She'd spent at least an hour in the bathroom, looking at herself and waiting for Ron to come home. Part of her wanted to grab the bathrobe that hung from the door and wrap it tightly around herself; to walk out there, lay down on the bed, and act like she'd never planned to seduce him. But with a confident – albeit shaky – smile aimed at her reflection, she pulled open the door.

Ron was sitting on the bed, his eyes closed, his body slumped against the headboard, and his bare chest shining with sweat. He looked utterly exhausted. Hermione suddenly regretted planning this on a Wednesday night; he needed rest. But at the sound of the bathroom door opening, Ron lazily opened his eyes and looked up at his fiancée – the woman he was proud to say he loved – for the first time that night.

His eyes immediately clouded over with lust, and he stared at her, slightly gaping. She giggled at his reaction, flashing him a tentative smile. "Damn. You're beautiful." He whispered, scooting to the edge of their bed as her blush deepened. She sauntered toward them – a walk that Ginny had spent an entire day helping her master, claiming that it would drive any man wild – and gently spread her legs to straddle him.

He tucked a lock of her smooth hair behind her ear and gave her a curious look. "What happened to your hair?"

"It's a hair potion. It helps tame unruly hair. Do you – do you like it?" She knew he loved her no matter what she looked like, and she was worried that he wouldn't approve of the sudden change of hairstyle. Whenever she'd complain about her hair, Ron was always the first to assure her that it was beautiful and didn't need any changes.

"I love it." He smiled softly and placed a chaste kiss on her lips.

Hermione pulled away for a second to look down at him before wrapping her arms around his neck and capturing his lips in a passionate kiss. She parted her lips to sigh, and Ron took the opportunity to invade her mouth. They stayed like this for a few minutes, – their bodies smashed together, their hands tangled in the other's hair – only coming up for air.

Finally, Ron pulled his mouth away from hers and looked down appreciatively at her appearance. "Nice choice of clothing." He remarked, grinning at her. "Have you always had that?"

"Merlin, no!" She said, leaning back a bit to look at him.

"Then where'd you get it?"

Hermione had the sudden urge to push him onto the bed and effectively shut him up with her mouth, but the side of her that loved giving explanations eclipsed the other. She looked down at the lingerie then back into Ron's clear blue eyes. "I got it from Victoria's Secret."

"What is it?" He said, his eyebrows crinkling together. He looked thoroughly perplexed.

"What? Are you asking what I'm wearing? Well, it's called lingerie – "

"I know that." said Ron as he rolled his eyes. He was a guy; _of course_ he knew what lingerie was. "This secret? What is it?"

"What secret?" Hermione asked, now nearly as confused as Ron was. She raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to elaborate. "Ron, I can't answer a question that I don't understand."

"Well, the secret? Victoria's secret? What is it?"

"Have you even been listening? It's a store."

"What's it called?"

"It's Victoria's Secret."

"So, what? I can't know the name of it."

Hermione let out an exaggerated sigh and moved to sit next to Ron. "What are you going on about?"

"What's the name of the store – you know, Victoria's secret? And who the bloody hell is Victoria?"

Hermione let out a loud laugh, covering her mouth with her hand as she pieced together Ron's questions. He glared at her, his arms crossed over his chest.

"What's so funny?"

"You – you – "She dissolved into another fit of giggles and fell back onto the bed, clutching at her stomach. Ron stared at her in disbelief. He wasn't sure what he had done or said that had warranted such a response. He continued to sit there, scowling at her. "It's a – a store!" She blurted out, her stomach beginning to hurt.

"I still don't get it." He grumbled, frowning. Hermione took a few deep breaths and was able to calm herself down, sitting up to face Ron.

"Victoria's Secret is the name of a Muggle store that sells lingerie and underthings for women. There is no secret."

Ron blinked at her. "So... the store is called Victoria's Secret? There's no secret?"

"That's what I said."

"Oh," Ron said, chuckling softly. A red flush the color of his hair crept up his neck and into his cheeks. "Sorry. I'm not used to the odd names of Muggle stores. Why can't they call it something that makes sense. Like, "Victoria's Emporium of Lingerie and Other Underthings" or something. What's with all the secret business?"

Hermione laughed again, leaning forward to peck him on the lips. "No idea, but it's alright. I've been enduring Ginny's torturous seduction training all day. I needed a good laugh."

"Seduction training? Sounds like loads more fun than Auror training." His face split into a sudden grin. "So, what exactly did you learn during this training?"

"Well..." she purred, reaching forward to touch his bare chest. Her nails grazed down his skin, leaving red marks in their wake. He shivered. "I learned that when you ask too many questions, it kills the mood." With that she crawled towards the headboard, settled on her side of the bed, and reached for a book on their bedside table.

"Really? You're choosing _Hogwarts, A History _over me?" He asked, appalled. She laughed softly as she cracked open the book, searching for the spot where she had left off.

"Honestly, Ron. It's like you don't know me at all."

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**A/N:** There you go! A completely random Hr/R fic. If you've read, please review and let me know what you think. Nothing makes me happier than feedback. Also, I feel the need to state that this is a One-shot and will never morph into anything more. My apologies.


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